


The Discography of Grifter's Bone

by witchGender



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Enemies to Lovers, Grifter's Bone - Freeform, Hate Sex, Hunt!Tim, Knifeplay, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Roleswap, Slaughter!Gerry, Trans Gerard Keay, Trans Male Character, Unhealthy Relationships, Worms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:35:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27585521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchGender/pseuds/witchGender
Summary: Grifter's Bone is a legend around the London music scene. Really more of a myth. Supposedly, no one's seen the band in concert and lived to tell the tale. Even Gerard Keay, unwilling expert in the occult, isn't quite sure he believes they exist.That is, until he finds a CD of theirs in a local music store, and gets a sudden change in career.
Relationships: Gerard Keay/Tim Stoker
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	1. Prologue: Matricide

Gerard knew what he was doing. Or at least, he had a hunch. He'd been involved with the family business, and with the underground music scene, long enough to have heard of Grifter's Bone, and to suspect what they really were. When he went to the front desk of the old music store to buy the CD, he told himself it was like collecting a Leitner. He'd destroy it, or give it to his mother. But even as he told himself that, he knew he wasn't telling the whole truth. There were no accounts of Grifter's Bone CDs, or any other kind of recorded music, just live performances. Surely, the CD couldn't be as dangerous as attending a concert? Gerard simply had to know. That was what got him, in the end. Curiosity. It's the downfall of so many humans.

The music was beautiful. If you'd asked him the genre, or the subject matter, he wouldn't have been able to answer. But laying on his bed in his mother's dingy apartment above Pinhole Books, staring at the ceiling as the melody washed over him, Gerard Keay felt complete in a way he never had before. All the more, he felt inspired. And so, when the last song on the CD had played through, and it was spinning soundlessly in his stereo, he stood, and grabbed his guitar. It wasn't a very nice guitar. The amp crackled terribly when he plugged it in, the strings needed to be replaced, and the instrument itself had been cheap even before Gerad had bought it used. But that night, in his hands, the guitar played like it was the finest instrument ever crafted.

When the screaming started downstairs, Gerard just smiled, and started to sing. He could never remember the words afterwards - he figured they probably didn't matter. It didn't matter, either, if anyone else heard the screaming, or if his music had somehow drowned it out. The song lasted much longer than should've been possible. Gerard's fingers bled on the guitar, by the end. But he didn't stop until it was done, until the screams had faded forever, until the melody was complete.

He packed his things mechanically, as if on autopilot. He ignored books and technology in favor of his guitar, spare strings, his favorite leather coat. He didn't touch his toothbrush, nor did he think to grab any food as he passed through the kitchen. He walked past his mother's corpse - flayed by her own hand and still dripping blood across the floor - without looking at it. He stepped out into the London night and breathed in a lungful of air, letting it out with a contended sigh.

Gerry Grifter left Pinhole Books behind for good, leaving a trail of bloody footprints on the pavement behind him. Upstairs in his old bedroom, a blank CD spun endlessly in its player.


	2. Chapter one: Villain

A smash sounded through the usually quite archives, closely followed by a high screech that had to be Rosie's. Jon started from the trance that reading statements usually put him in and ran to his office door, yanking it open in time to hear Martin stammering at someone.

"L-Listen, calm down, there's no need to-"

"The Archivist." said a voice, strangely calm and pleasant considering the situation. "Where is he?"

"He's in his office." That voice was Melanie's. And she also sounded odd. Jon had just shut the door and was just considering whether he should try to find a way to run, when the door slammed open once more, revealing two figures.

One was Melanie, wearing her now usual scowl, dark purple hair perfectly combed and hands shoved into her bomber jacket's pockets. The other intruder, Jon had only read about in statements, but he was unmistakable. Gerard Keay was tall, lanky, and wore his leather jacket open to reveal a shirt so badly torn, it could hardly be called a shirt anymore. He was smiling, posure as relaxed as if he was just stopping in for a chat. Jon's body went ridged as he got the distinct feeling that something was very, very wrong. The air smelled strange, almost... rusty.

"Hello there, Archivist." said Gerard, stepping over the threshold like he owned the place. He placed a hand on Jon's desk and leaned over it, something savage and wrong about the look in his eyes. "Sorry to stop by without notice, but I'm just not using phones much these days."

"What do you want?" Jon didn't even notice the static creeping into his voice until Gerard had grabbed him by the front of his shirt.

"None of that." Gerard practically cooed, expression still calm and pleasant. "If you think you're going to get anything out of me today, you're wrong. I'm here to get something out of you. And I'm not opposed to shedding some blood in order to get it, so play nice, alright?"

Jon nodded hastily, eyes wide. Somewhere between being grabbed and looking far too deeply into Gerard's eyes, he'd worked out the presence he was feeling. The Slaughter hung heavy in the air, thick as bloodscent and hot like sun-soaked pavement.

"Excellent. Now then." Gerard let him go, and Jon gratefully took the opportunity to lean back in his chair again. "I'm in search of a certain book. Something from the library of Jurgen Leitner."

"Last I checked, your mother was the expert at collecting those." Jon pointed out, unable to keep an edge of annoyance from his voice. "What makes you think we have it?"

"That's the funny thing. It was in my mother's collection, until it was stolen from her. She was in quite a tizzy about it. Pity she's not around anymore to celebrate when I get it back." Gerard crossed his arms, and Jon felt very much like a witness being intimidated by a police officer. "The book has no title, and the pages are made of human skin, with descriptions of dying moments on them. Hand it over, and I'll walk out of here without a fuss. Try to hold onto it, and I will turn every person in this building against you." Gerard's grin widened, and Jon was horribly reminded of a hungry animal. "It wouldn't be difficult. Very few of your staff trust you, did you know that? Melanie here is already practically on my side."

"Don't talk about me like I'm your lacky." Melanie snapped, rage burning in her eyes. "I let you in because I hate him, not because I'm siding with you."

"Of course not." Gerard soothed, his relaxed attitude in sharp juxtaposition to Melanie's barely-contained anger. "All the same, I appreciate the assistence, sister." Jon opened his mouth to ask what Gerard meant by _sister_ , but snapped it shut again when Gerard cracked his knuckles. "Now then, Archivist. The book?"

"Isn't here." Jon said, firmly. "I'd know if there was a Leitner in this place. Besides, who do you think we are? This is the Magnus Institute, we don't just break into people's homes to steal books, unlike someone I could name." The accusation hung heavy in the air for a moment, before Gerard let out a soft laugh.

"I suppose that isn't exactly your style, no. Alright then, I'll bite. Who did take it?"

"Um..." Three pairs of eyes swiveled around to stare at Martin, standing in the doorway. "This is just a guess, don't come after me if I'm wrong - but it might be one of those hunter types."

"Martin, what are you-" Jon started, before Martin spoke again, cutting him off.

"You aren't the only one who can take statements, Jon. I've been taking statements from people who come in when you're already busy, and two of them talked about a weird... guy. Who's been stalking around town lately." Martin hesitated again, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

"Well, go on." Gerard encouraged, his tone sarcastically compassionate.

"Look, it's just a theory!" Martin insisted. "All I'm saying is that, whoever this guy is, he broke into an antique shop and stole a weird Victorian era pistol the owner had just bought, and a kid's elementary school for some reason? That statement came from a janitor, he said the guy had glowing yellow eyes, like an animal, and he growled instead of talked." Martin crossed his arms, tucking his hands under his armpits. "I have no clue what he's up to, but he sounds like a follower of the Hunt, and he's been breaking into places. So maybe he hit your mum's shop at some point."

The room went quiet as the archival staff waited for Gerard to respond. Jon searched his face, trying desperately to See any sort of hint about what had happened to him, what had changed him so drastically from the rag-tag heroic figure of statements past. He could find nothing, save for the strange, hungry look in the other's eyes. Finally, Gerard spoke.

"Fine. Since finding out the truth is what you do here, I'll take the lead. But let's get one thing clear, here." Suddenly, Jon found himself gasping for air as Gerard's hand latched itself around his throat. Jon hadn't even seen him move close enough to grab. "If your little friend sent me on a wild goosechase, Archivist," Gerard hissed, eyes now red and far, far too close, "then I will return, and I won't be alone. I'll bring the whole goddamn band with me. I'll give this whole place a new paintjob. Got it?"

Jon didn't even have time to squeak in response before he was thrown backwards into his chair, vision popping with stars. He gasped raggedly for breath, dimly aware of Martin's presence beside him and voices continuing to talk around him. 

"-get out!"

"I'm going, I'm going. See you around, sister."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song inspiration: Villain, by Wild Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Song inspiration: Matricide, by Munro


End file.
